


The Library

by belivaird_st



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 19:51:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15979271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belivaird_st/pseuds/belivaird_st
Summary: Therese enjoys spending her time at the library... Carol does too...





	The Library

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this was another oldie of my works from last year with a few differences from the original, which I had lost, unfortunately. I think this version came out better...

The Public Library, New York

_September, 1953_

The librarian paid no attention to you as long as you were quiet. Mrs. Evonne Rowland would be sitting behind the front desk either stamping out due dates or looking up words in the Dictionary.

Therese could spend hours at the Library if she wanted to. It was one of her favorite places to be. This afternoon she had chosen a book of poems written by Sylvia Plath. She sat by herself at the end of a long, rectangular table with a couple of college boys taking sight of her. They were seated at the table in front of hers, gazing at her from afar; whispering and nudging each other for the first one to make his move. The tall, broad-shouldered chess player, decided to leave his seat and be the first one to say “hello.”

“Sylvia Plath,” he spoke close enough to make Therese peer up, unexpectedly. “I find her books very wearisome at times...”

“Yes,” Therese agreed.

“Parker Albright,” he greeted her, holding his hand out.

“Therese Belivet,” she shyly responded back. Reeling herself back in her chair, she grabbed the dog-ear flapped corner pages of her library book and waited for him to move along and go away.

_He did not._

“Listen, so my buddy Gregory, and I, were wondering if you wanted to sit with us at our table? We couldn’t help but notice you looking so lonely-”

“I’m not,” Therese quickly answered. “I mean, I like being alone...” her eyes shifted past him now to see Carol heading towards their direction wearing a pretty magenta pantsuit and white chiffon scarf tied around her neck. Heart racing at the sight of her, Therese blinked away and peered back down at the poetry book. Parker Albright gave her a strange look and started retrieving back to his table to the bug-eyed, pimply face Gregory.

Carol shot a curious glance back towards the college boys before she made it to the table where her lover sat and pulled herself out a chair. Therese brought her book up closer to her face to hide her reddening cheeks. She caught a whiff of Carol’s cherry blossom fragrance perfume and began to relax. 

“Hello, my darling.”

“Hello.”

Carol folded her hands together, making the golden baubles dangling off her bracelets jingle around her wrists. She paused and waited for Therese to explain herself. When she did not, Carol leaned over to examine the title of Therese’s book. “Mad Girl’s Love Song,” she read out loud. “Which one is that?”

“Sylvia Plath,” Therese said. 

Carol nodded and stared on with a smirk on her face. 

“W-what?” Therese stammered.

“I saw you talking to those boys back there,” Carol explained.

“I wasn’t. They were talking to me. They wanted to know if I wanted to sit with them.”

“I see,” Carol smiled. She paused and took a few minutes looking around. Therese began to wonder what exactly was going through the mother’s mind. 

“Carol?”

“I have an idea,” she said.

The boys gawked at them from their table as the two women were leaving. Therese pushed her chair back in before she hurried off with Carol to go towards the other side to the back of the library. Carol maneuvered her way through several tower-high filled bookshelves to get to the storage closet. Therese watched her reach for the doorknob and jiggle it before yanking the door wide open.

“Carol, what are we-?”

“Shhh,” Carol placed a finger between her lips.

Moments later, Therese had her body leaned back up against the concrete wall with her blue plaid skirt pushed up by the likes of Carol, who had been down on her for a good fifteen minutes or so.

The Sylvia Plath book had fallen beneath her legs and laid sprawled out on the floor. Shortness of breath, Therese rolled her sweaty head to one side as she felt the heat of Carol’s mouth rise and the slippery wetness of her tongue rub along her walls. She let out a few gasps with a smack of the back of her head. Carol gazed up to look at her briefly above the layers of deep blue sea of plaid fabric and pulled out from her.

“Honey, your head,” her voice tightened with concern.

“I-It’s fine,” Therese spoke breathlessly, letting out a shaky laugh. “Don’t stop there!”

Carol leaned back in and kissed her. She blew into Therese; calming the nerves. She finished what she started - ending perfectly well. 

Coming out of the storage closet, both women took the time to rearrange themselves: fixing up their matted, sweaty hair, readjusting their brassieres and smoothing out any visible creases or wrinkles.

The library went on to its usual, quiet routine. Mrs. Rowland kept stamping away behind the front desk. She didn’t even bother to look up through her pair of bifocals the moment Therese came up and placed her Sylvia Plath book back in the drop-off bin. 

_She has no idea. No idea at all. Well, I guess nobody does,_ Therese thought with a grin, as she eagerly followed Carol outside into the smell of rain clouding the air.

**xxxx**


End file.
